


the ghost of you keeps me awake

by starblessed



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: Blood, M/M, Murder, Supernatural Elements, im sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 00:08:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12569256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starblessed/pseuds/starblessed
Summary: He’s covered in crimson. Liquid soaks into his scrubs, staining his arms and hands. It looks like he went swimming in a pool of cranberry juice. It looks like he dove into the damn Red Sea (which isn’t really red, but that’s beside the point). His front is completely drenched in it, like he tripped in the middle of the blood bank and took a few pints down with him.He springs to his feet as his boyfriend rushes past him. Gene doesn’t look back, even when the TV remote on Babe’s lap falls to the floor with a hollow thud.“Is that red syrup? Please tell me it’s just syrup.”





	the ghost of you keeps me awake

**Author's Note:**

> Of course, the characters in this fic are based off of their fictional portrayals from the miniseries Band of Brothers, and I mean no disrespect to the real-life veterans!
> 
> Find me on tumblr at [renelemaires](http://renelemaires.tumblr.com/)!

As soon as the door opens, Babe’s heart almost leaps out of his throat.

Gene breezes in, in that same subdued frantic state he seems to exist in whenever he’s at work. It’s rare that Babe finds him like this at home, in his element, where the threat of someone dying if he stops to take a breath no longer exists. Seeing him so rushed is alarming enough without the mess of red drenching the front of his clothes.

He’s covered in crimson. Liquid soaks into his scrubs, staining his arms and hands. It looks like he went swimming in a pool of cranberry juice. It looks like he dove into the damn Red Sea (which isn’t really red, but that’s beside the point). His front is completely drenched in it, like he tripped in the middle of the blood bank and took a few pints down with him.

He springs to his feet as his boyfriend rushes past him. Gene doesn’t look back, even when the TV remote on Babe’s lap falls to the floor with a hollow thud.

“Is that red syrup? Please tell me it’s just syrup.”

“Can’t do that,” Gene replies shortly, making a beeline to the bathroom.

Babe follows, eyes wide. His biggest fear is that Gene will slam the bathroom door, shutting him out. Instead he leaves it wide open, enabling Babe to watch as he hunches over the sink, scrubbing frantically at his dyed palms. The blood (because that’s what it is, it’s blood, _jesus christ it’s all blood)_ is stubborn, clinging even as the bar of soap turns a bubbling pink, and Gene’s nails gauge lines into his sensitive skin. Gene’s reflection is taut and terrified. His eyes look like two black holes in his ashy face. His mouth is pinched so small that Babe can barely see it.

“Gene, take off your clothes,” Babe orders. On any other day, these words would make them both grin; now they’re spoke with a note of urgency, fear Babe cannot swallow back. When Gene makes no move to comply, he says it louder. “Take off your clothes, Gene, they’re covered in the stuff!”

“Alright. Alright,” Gene finally exhales. His words are slow, like he’s dazed or half-asleep. He pulls the scrub top over his head, discarding it in the shower. His pants are quick to follow, and then his undershirt, leaving him standing there in nothing but his boxers. There are specks of blood against his collarbones. His hands and lower arms are still covered in the stuff.

What happened isn’t important right now. The most crucial thing is making sure Gene is alright. “Okay,” says Babe, stepping up to his boyfriend. Gently, he twines his arms around Gene’s own and guides him to the skin. The water is still running. Babe plays with the taps, waiting for the stream to turn from icy to warm, before he eases Gene’s crimson hands beneath the flow.

Gene is too shaken to clean himself up, so Babe does it for him. He washes the blood from Gene’s face, his hands, his chest; and, slowly but surely, he sees the light return to Gene’s eyes.

Only when he’s clean and no longer trembling does Babe dare to ask the question that burns the tip of his tongue. He hunches down next to Gene, who’s sitting on the closed toilet seat and staring at the wall as f he’s watching a very interesting movie. His hands play with Gene’s own, twining their fingers together.

“You gotta tell me what happened. Can you do that?”

“I did- didn’t —“ Gene stammers over his words, cuts himself off, and sighs. His eyes flutter shut, as if he can’t bear to keep them open any longer. “I didn’t mean for it to be so messy.”

Something in Babe’s chest feels right. There is a rubber band around his lungs and it is squeezing, squeezing, the pressure growing worse by the minute. “What do you mean, Gene?”

“We got so many — so many sharp things at the hospital,” he mutters. His voice is trembling as much as his hands were seconds ago, only this shows no signs of steadying anytime soon. “I’ve got a bone saw in my car. No one’s missed it. I found the guy’s address in the hospital records.”

“Gene, what did you do?”

Maybe it’s the question, or maybe waver in Babe’s own voice is what breaks Gene out of his spell. He turns in Babe’s direction, eyes suddenly alert and focused. One hand reaches up, and slowly moves to caress Babe’s jaw. Gene’s touch is as tender as ever.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “It’s okay, Babe. I found him.”

“Found who?” Babe asks. Gene does not reply. “Gene, come on, found who?”

“One of the men who hurt you,” Gene replies. His voice is matter-of-fact. Babe would almost call it serene. “I made him pay, Babe. He ain’t never gonna hurt anybody again. I made sure of that.”

Babe’s eyes flicker to the ruined scrubs still sitting in the sink. The words _bone saw_ echo in his head, over and over, forming a morbid nursery rhyme melody. He thinks of the haunted look in Gene’s eyes, the way he trembled, and feels sick.

_(He’s seen that look before. He can’t remember where, but that same shell-shocked, awful look was on Gene’s face not too long ago. When? Why? He wishes he could remember, but it is all too far away._

_All he remembers is a long, narrow hallway, the ticking of an old clock, and Gene lifting his head from his hands to gaze at him with that same haunted expression._

_“Babe?” Gene had said, voice breaking. He stared straight ahead, not looking at Babe, as if he couldn’t see him. “You’re here? Is that — are you really here?”_

_Babe can’t remember what he said in reply, but he remembers grabbing Gene’s hand and squeezing it tight. He remembers the way Gene gripped him back, as if he never wanted to let go._

_Memories before and after that are all fleeting, like echoes of a dream — but he remembers that with stark clarity.)_

This morning, when Gene left, he seemed normal. Hadn’t he? Babe _thinks_ so, but he can’t recall for sure — mornings blur into nights, everything seems a little the same. It’s hard to differentiate one memory from another, but he knows Gene left for work this morning without saying a thing about plans to kill a guy.

 _Jesus Christ,_ thinks Babe. _This is nuttier than a movie._

This is real life. Gene is right in front of him. He’s shaking again. He needs Babe to be there for him. Whatever happened, whatever he did, they’re going to get through this together.

“I’m gonna find the other two, Babe,” Gene whispers. He still does not look at Babe, cannot see the love in his eyes, but he’s got a grip on his hand and he’s squeezing tight (like he never, ever wants to let go). “I’m going to make them pay. They’ll pay for how they killed you.”

The words don’t quite register in Babe’s head; it’s as if Gene has switched into a different language all of a sudden, one impossible for him to comprehend. He can’t understand what he means, but it’s alright.

For now, Babe just holds Gene’s hand, and squeezes it back.

**Author's Note:**

> so like, basically. babe was murdered by a group of men and returned as a ghost who doesn't realize he's dead. gene is out to avenge babe's death (and even though he can't see babe, he can feel and hear him)


End file.
